


Release

by NotSoSafeHiya (Pilakahiya)



Category: Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral (2018), Heneral Luna (2015) RPF
Genre: Angst, Jeumong, Jeunang, Jeune Hernando/Jesus Maximo Jacobo - Freeform, Lunasona, M/M, Platonic Relationships
Language: Filipino
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-22 20:10:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18534643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pilakahiya/pseuds/NotSoSafeHiya
Summary: Jeune shut himself into his world. He wants him back. A friend quietly visits, a door opens for him to face reality.Time to release what he was holding on to.





	Release

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning: Character death, blood, violence (if the tags didn't warn you, then I am now)

Jeune woke up again in cold sweat. Same nightmares that plague him every night. He forgotten to take the pills, recalled that he ran out a day ago. He shifts on his bed, restless in the long run. He gets up and takes a walk in the hallways. He reaches the door that has been locked for more than a month. He unlocks it, taking a glimpse of what was inside.

 

The bed was untouched, bedsheets with little wrinkles as if someone slept on it. There’s little dust around, scattered papers on the desk. A chair with a red checkered polo hung on it, he quietly enters and takes it, taking a whiff of a faded familiar scent. He wonders if he comes back in the absence, placing the polo back to the chair. He takes his leave, closes and locks the door again.

 

He still believed he’s still there and simply waits for him to come home. His thoughts were swirling around into a mess lately. “Sir,” Laya, his assistant chimed, “You have a visitor.” He groaned, “Visitor? Who is it?” “It’s Mx Jacobo, sir. Do you want me to let them in?” “Yes please.” He sits on the living room, waiting. It was a long while since he had visitors, locking himself in his estate. People around him are worried.

 

“Jeune,” Corang greeted him quietly, “Tagal na ah? Pasensya ka na, hindi kita mareach kaya bumisita na lang ako ng personal.” They held a guitar and carefully placed it down. “Kumusta ka na?”

 

“Ayos lang.” He replied, but he isn’t. “Nag-alala lang ako, hindi ka sumipot…” They trailed off quietly. “Alam ko na hindi ka okay.” They leveled up a gaze. “Nababasa kita kahit papano, ganun din ako, hindi rin okay.” They leaned back at the couch, “Gusto mo ba siyang makita?”

 

“Hindi ko alam,” he mumbles, “Hindi ko alam...kung...kakayanin ko.” He felt so weak, his eyes landed on a guitar. “Dinala mo.” He takes hold of it carefully. “Syempre, Kuya’s first and only guitar.” They chuckled quietly, “He taught me with that one. He really cared for that, mataas ang sentimental value niyan. I’m sure at one point he sang some songs to you.” They sighed quietly, “You’re lucky pag kinantahan ka niyan, bihira na siya kumanta ng mga harana. I say, mas blessed pa siya with his charm.”

 

He runs his fingers through the wood, colored markers that sprawled out in design, there were cracks on the wood but held on with decorative tape, his favorite things were drawn in it along with his signature. He quietly strums it, bringing a sound out of tune. A quiet memory comes by.

 

_Imong strums each string, tuning it into the right tones before Jeune came into the scene. “Oh, Imong? What’s with that guitar?” He inquired with a puzzled look, never saw him hold one. “I play and sing obviously, well it’s quite a while besides I feel comfortable naman.” He grins, strumming into tune with his fingers skillfully placing down on chords and switching. His only audience quietly sat down, watching him with piqued interest. “This is Imong Jacobo, singing Ang Huling El Bimbo by The Eraserheads.” He spoke as if he was at the bar, getting to his rhythm and quietly sang._

_Magkahawak ang ating kamay_  
_At walang kamalay-malay_  
_Na tinuruan mo ang puso ko_ _  
_ Na umibig ng tunay

 

_He finishes strumming, takes Jeune’s hand to his, lightly placing a kiss to it. “Mahal,” he looks at him with dreamy gaze. “Darling,” he quietly caresses his cheek and twirls a stray lock of hair. It was his surprise, simply executed at his own comfort._

 

He quietly mumbles, “Y-Yes, I was lucky.” He wishes he could hear his voice for one more time, “He seemed so cheesy when he sang.” Corang quietly laughed, “Ganyan siyang romantiko. He was picking up confidence to be a show off to you! It’s so rare to see him come out of his shell in that kind of thing.” He quietly stares at the guitar, quietly made his decision. “Gusto ko siyang makita.”

 

Corang quietly drove the car. It was a bit new since Jeune is sitting at the passenger seat. The city view disappeared in long winding roads, slowly replaced by the provincial scenery. He stared out quietly, not wanting to speak anything but his mind digged through past events that happened between them.

 

_Bang! Bang!_

 

_He clutched his firearms tight, it was a bad day to start with. Double crossing and what mess the deal it made. He targets them, making sure they are the only casualty in the scene. But things are rough, each side turning the tables, he takes the turn to flee in dark alleyways to hide. He didn’t expect to meet Imong in the job that stains his hands red. He grabbed him and both fled into hiding._

 

_Imong didn’t looked so fazed, much to his surprise. He helped him recuperate for the moment. “May baril ka pa ba?” The question caught him off guard, “Seryoso ka?" He glared, “Seryoso ako, tutulungan kita sa ayaw o sa gusto mo.” His voice sounded assertive of authority under the dire circumstances. With a spare gun loaded, another shoot out._

 

_Next scenes were blurry, everything was fast paced. The silence fell between them, Imong sustained several injuries but still stood strong. Jeune quietly came out when he deemed it safe. It was a hindsight, and Imong took it but not before firing another round. He fell on the ground hard, hearing Jeune’s screaming to him with few more gunshots fired and being carried away._

 

_White walls painted the next scene, they were able to stabilize him for the moment though it was difficult. He underwent surgery to remove some bullets. He easily woke up, Jeune with his side. “Jeez, Imong…” he caressed his cheek, careful not to cause him pain. “Jeune,” he smiled slowly, “Salamat, buhay ka…” His voice so frail that time. “Shh wag ka muna gumalaw, tatangalin pa ibang bala sa katawan mo.” He cooed quietly, lightly pecking his forehead. “Sige...mahal, love you.” He managed to give him a smirk. “Darling, sa susunod na iyan.”_

 

_Except there was no more next time._

 

_A rush of personnel in the room, the machine beeping on the flatline. Jeune was fighting back to get to him, he couldn’t reach him. He screamed in anger, he hoped he’d survive. Then it stopped, the line remained flat and the noise continued. They have announced the time and he refuses to believe. He slowly approaches his body, eyes tearing up into sobs._

 

_It then repeats. Again and again._

 

“Huy Jeune gising, naandito na tayo sa Santa Cruz.” Corang shakes him awake, and particularly he woke up jumpy. “Parang ka nang binabangungot. Halika, si Kuya naghihintay.” They got off the car and headed to a grassy meadow. There are tombstones neatly laid out, some overgrown with weeds, some are clean. It was a long walk, he assisted them on carrying the candles for him. “Bago pa pumanaw si Kuya, may pangarap na siya pati libing niya. Gusto niya malibing dito, malapit sa bukid, mabalikan ang nakaraan. Oo pinahirapan nga kami sa lakad dahil doon pa siya nakapwesto.” They got into the end of it, his area still clean and grass began growing on the spot.

 

“Kuya Imong, naandito na si Jeune.” They approached first, lowering themselves while touching his tombstone, “Alam ko miss na miss mo na siya.” They planted some candles on and lighted it. “Jeune, halika. Ikaw na kumausap sa kanya.” They stood up and patted him on the back. “Kausapin mo siya, alam kong may mga bagay na hindi nasabi. Kahit sa pagkakataong ito, sabihin mo yung gusto mong sabihin, alam kong naririnig ka niya.”

 

Jeune looked cautious and afraid. To come into terms of death wasn’t so easy. He lost his family, now someone he held close to him, to his heart. He slowly sits, “Imong, darling?” He sounded a bit low, failing to keep up his usual tone and mentally slapped himself as he waited for a response. “Sorry, hindi kita dinalaw sa burol mo.” He lightly dragged his fingers on the smooth stone while placing the candles he lit. “Sayang, hindi ko na nakita ang maamong muhka mo.” He couldn’t keep his composure, breaking into tears as he spoke. “Sorry Imong, I’m sorry.” He mumbled his words, the regret he had bottled up inside. “I...I miss you already...please…”

 

A breeze came by, and it wasn’t leaving. Unusual chilly air embraced him, despite the hot weather. He felt some weight on his back, and he was soothed somehow. “Imong..? Ikaw ba iyan..?” He rubbed his arms, it felt like him. “Ayos lang ako...matatahimik rin tayo.” He murmured quietly, talking to him even though the physical presence is six feet under. Then the weighted feeling slowly left, a partially filled void remained with him. He’s going to go in another long way to grieve, wiped his tears off and stood up. He takes a last look of his grave.

 

“Jesus Maximo Jacobo… Nawa’y magkita tayo sa susunod, darling.”

  
As the two walked away, an incorporeal body stood by that grave. The eyes touched with his appearance, giving peace in both of them. _“Jeune, mahal, siguradong sa susunod.”_ It sounded like whispers of the wind. As Jeune is about to get inside the car, he looks at the grave one last time, briefly catching Imong standing on it, smiling. He blinked and he was gone. “Still protective as ever, darling.” He muttered and chuckled, finally getting in before they left off with the resolve of quiet grieve.


End file.
